#/ tiber bay; *

[aegeanxcalla]

where?: tiber bay when?: stretch of time between the iskaran's arrival and neptunalia who?: open to all

Amidst the hustle and bustle of Tiber Bay was an elderly woman shaking a cup to any passerby. The few coins held within jangled as her decrepit hand shook it desperately. "Spare some coin? Anything please, I haven't eaten in days..." She coughs, obviously ill, but even though flecks of mucus are visibly flying out her mouth, the entire display is a farce. One meant to be discovered too. Aegean's weave was intentionally weak, detectable, and far below his capabilities. Any guild member or thread weaver worth their salt would be able to see through the deception since this mask was meant to fail. The old lady grins before the illusory mask begins to unravel around the thief, revealing his true visage. "Wow, there was no chance of me fooling you, huh?" he lies, scooping the coins out of the cup with a grin. "And here I thought I'd be able to get enough for a new pair of shoes before high noon."

[elokian]

who?: @vuldak-juneau where?: tiber bay when?: neptunalia

Naturally, Elokian was eager to put the whole experience behind him. Whoever he became in the prism would remain in the prism. The things he brought back with him were far more pressing than worrying about the state his other competitors had seen him in. Elokian was still the Captain of the greatest armada on the Veild Sea and that had to remain his priority. Though, however resolute he may have been in such sentiments, from atop the deck of his ship he couldn't stop his eyes from following her down below. Everyone experienced a unique sort of pain during his trial, and Elokian experienced more types than anyone. But the feeling of Juneau's impacted him deeper than any pain he'd experienced before. "Aye there girl, don't tell me you've come to cash in on my offer already," he shouts down, leaning over the edge of his flagship. "I have a rather busy day of tavern hopping and flirting with pretty boys ahead, but I can squeeze a kneecapping or two in for a fellow survivor."

[ormir]

Location: Tiber Bay When: Present day, shortly before leaving for Astoria &&: @xdeimosx

Climbing into bed with the same nation he’d warred with was a desperate measure, but with the lines along Aventia crumbling and the darkspawn inching closer with every moment, there was no time nor pride to spare. If his summons were enough to pull the prince away from an ego-fueled death on the front lines, that alone would make the journey worthwhile. Ormir needed only to deal with tightening up their arguments, charting possible means of escape (if things were to go as bad as he imagined they could), and seeing that they were well-stocked for the journey. Sleep was tertiary to the preparations such a voyage demanded.

The shipyard proved an assault on every sense. Shouts of direction and haggling from the fishmongers were muddied by the constant bray of gulls circling overhead. As the film of morning fog burnt away, bodies jostled through it, clearly just dumped out by the taverns. One nearly clipped the shoulder of the noble as he passed. The stench of fish and decaying algae clogged the air, baking off of the sea. Breathing through the mouth would only saturate the palette with the taste. A great ship waited at the end of the dock, primed for voyage. The wooden board creaked under Ormir’s feet as he boarded the ship, toting a leather case beneath one arm. He’d not been willing to gamble its contents on any errand boy who reported directly to Arethusa. Better to handle such delicate matters personally.

Satisfied, Ormir disembarked empty-handed, and cut away from the central clamor of the dockyard. It would be prudent to cut through the merchant alley, clear the briny smell in his nostrils and make it back to the tower before mid-day. Instead, the Iskaran decided to walk a while longer along the waterfront, hearing the gulls bark and allowing his mind to wear down the same lapping trails of thought. It was a small indulgence. Sighting a familiar crop of hair by the water triggered a flutter of intrigue. Ormir didn���t believe much in serendipity, but few meetings stuck with him the way Deimos’ attitudes had. They had marked him, challenged him. The noble sometimes caught himself wondering what the other would do, in his place.

“I didn’t take you for a fisherman.” Ormir announced as he approached, keeping a handful of paces between himself and the man at the water’s edge.

[phyrofwild]

Location: Tiber Bay

Closed: @freydis-freydat

Sales were going great even if he was such a bad merchant at heart, selling his items for far cheaper than one might've put them up for, and maybe that was the main reason his seemingly unending debt would haunt him in the shape of visits from fellow merchants in which's eyes he could clearly see the desire for his ruination, even though their sweet tongues told lie after lie after lie... That was not a life the Genasi wished to live for long, he longed to see the world, he had his connections to reestablish and had his web to rebuild after the disaster of Iskaldrik. Luckily, a few of his most important acquaintances resided elsewhere, in Lysara, in Ankhuria, in Astoria and even in Sinaria, so The Link never really died, but his connection to it was deeply severed, even as their leader, some might even think he was dead.

And yet there he was, cracking his head as he planned for a grand return, should he call for a meeting with the powerful links? To show he was still breathing and well? Or should he let them figure it out as information seekers themselves? As he walked alongside the water, his unamused gaze fell upon the familiar figure and a smile appeared, soft, on his features. "Ms. Freydis." He called with a short nod of his head as a greeting. "It has been a really long time since we last spoke, hasn't it?" It was a rhetorical question, since they'd only spoken to each other once at the Lostlands and then he barely saw her at the ball before she vanished. "I hope you have been well?"

[megamindsupremacy]

So, way back when I was a wee little cringe nerd (tentatively affectionate), I was absolutely bonkers obsessed with Percy Jackson. I also had basically zero access to the internet and only an extremely vague idea of what fanfiction was, and I definitely wasn't immersed in the fanfiction culture of the time. So that meant whenever I had Thoughts and Ideas, I was writing those fuckers straight into my class notebooks for all the world but especially my teachers to see. That being said, I just remembered my very first ever fanfiction idea, of which I wrote three pages of looseleaf in my seventh-grade social studies class with my best friend in between assignments. Which I will now elaborate on as an Adult because honestly, what else do I have a semi-popular Tumblr blog for?

The basic idea is that, in the Son of Neptune, instead of heading straight for Camp Jupiter, Percy very vaguely remembers that the mysterious Annabeth lives very close by. He skids down the hill next to the Caldecott Tunnel, but instead of crashing into the highway, he lands in the back of a pickup and is carried away by a very panicked+annoyed driver who wants the kid in the back of his truck out.

(Please imagine Frank and Hazel, standing guard, watching some random kid go screaming down the side of a hill on a serving platter while pursued by gorgons, land in a pickup, and, still screaming, swordfight said gorgons. Who get whacked out of the air and run over by a school bus. Can you fucking imagine)

(Please also imagine Juno, waiting invisibly next to the road, also watching Percy go screaming by in a truck. She had been waiting there to give Percy her mysterious "choose safety or your memories" spiel but now he's fucking gone)

The pickup driver pulls over to the side of the road near the bay and tells Percy to get the fuck out of the back of his car. Percy, seeing the gorgons in hot pursuit in the distance, makes the logical move and jumps straight into the bay. He lets instincts and muscle memory guide him to the edge of one of those fancy neighborhoods that border the edge of the water. He continues following muscle memory and instincts and ends up at Annabeth's house, and he knocks on the door.

Fredrick, opening the door: Percy Jackson??

Percy: ...who are you

Fredrick: you exploded my car four years ago! my daughter has been looking for you for months. ANNABETH COME DOWNSTAIRS I FOUND YOUR BOYFRIEND

Percy: HUH WHAT

Annabeth gives him a flying tackle hug and Percy is 60% confused, 40% relieved because finally this is someone he remembers. Annabeth starts talking about how they need to get Percy to CHB stat, everyone is so worried about him, they knew Jason had had amnesia but it had been so long they weren't sure if Percy was still alive, etc etc,

Percy is nodding along in confusion and pretending he knows wtf she's talking about.

Juno appears in the Chase house. She's mad as hell that a) percy isn't already in Camp Jupiter and b) he's with Annabeth (derogatory). She teleports Percy straight into CJ but Annabeth manages to hang onto him and come with.

They land on the near side of the Little Tiber, where Frank and Hazel are reporting on the weird screaming demigod in a pickup that had gone by twenty minutes ago. Juno realizes she accidentally brought Annabeth along and is Very Unhappy about this.

"Romans, I bring to you the Son of Neptune-" ("I'm the son of a planet?" Percy muttered). "For months he has been slumbering [etc]. Instruct him in your ways, induct him into your legion. As for the daughter of Minerva…” The Romans gasped, staring at Annabeth. Juno curled her lip, shooting an icy look at the girl. Annabeth snarled wordlessly in response. “She is extraneous. Do with her what you will.”

Juno disappeared

More will be added in the reblog

[princemordecai]

Location: Tiber Bay Notes: The news is breaking, Iskaldrik has fallen.

There had been no word from the neighbouring Kingdom, no ships going in and out. Ironwood dragonboats made into driftwood were washing up on the shores of Borderreach, songs of Caribella whispered of refugees - captured or worse. The how was unknown, but Iskaldrik had stood undaunted for thousands of years and suddenly the nation was no more.

Leander's first thought went to the witches that had historically been trapped within. A nation of dogmatic, magic-hating hounds swept away with the tide was no loss as far as the prince was concerned. Those they kept underfoot though? His mind went to Morgan and to those who'd been safely seen or found from the neighbouring realm. A month had passed since word had stopped, a secret guarded by the Agents as they tightly threaded the risk of revealing the silence in favour of burrowing in deeper. Arethusa's decision to call for a ceasefire made greater sense now, cooler heads would come to negotiate, but for now Leander's charge was unchanged.

However brief, the prince's disposition had been light when he returned home. Relieved from the weight of the war to enjoy the temporary bliss of home. His mother had given him a fortnight without duty, which was more than he'd had in over a decade.

"Across this sea stands an enemy strong enough to break our ancient foe with little more than a breath." He looked towards the one who joined his side, "Iskaldrik has fallen."

[thepastisalreadywritten]

By Jane von Mehren

11 January 2023

The highly civilized Etruscans had a huge impact on the city’s eventual geography, architecture, government, trade, and agriculture.

They created excellent schools to which rich Romans sent their sons, much as they would later send them to Greek institutes.

By the sixth century B.C., some of Rome’s most famous institutions, from the Forum to the Senate, were in existence but even the most reputable historians — including Fabius, Livy, and Plutarch — started their accounts of the empire in legend.

Legendary beginnings

The story of Rome’s founding begins in Alba Longa, the first “city” of Latium, a region in central western Italy, occupied by Latins.

The area had been inhabited since the Bronze Age by farming communities and was known to the ancient Greeks, which is perhaps why Aeneas, a Trojan prince, is said to have established it around 1150 B.C.

According to legend, in Alba Longa, two of Aeneas’s descendants, the brothers Amulius and Numitor, fought over who would rule.

Amulius triumphed, killing Numitor’s sons and exiling his daughter, Rhea Silvia, to become a Vestal Virgin.

Through divine intervention, she gave birth to the twins Romulus and Remus.

Threatened by these potential claimants to his throne, Amulius beheaded Rhea Silvia and abandoned the babies in the river Tiber.

Miraculously, a she-wolf rescued and cared for the boys until a shepherd, Faustulus, adopted them, raising them on the Palatine Hill, located in modern-day Rome.

The legend goes on to say that the brothers established the city of Rome on the banks of the Tiber River, where it was narrow enough for crossing and the hills provided a good defensive position.

The land between the hills, however, was quite marshy and not all that fertile.

The twins soon quarreled about the city’s exact boundaries and Romulus killed Remus.

Romulus, along with the outlaws and criminals he recruited, invited neighboring tribe the Sabines, who had resisted intermarrying with the Romans, to a fête.

During the merriment, Romulus raised his cloak signaling his men to seize and abduct the young Sabine women.

As the origin story goes, being Roman wives suited the women and they stopped the Sabine men from battling the Romans when they came to recapture them.

In the end the Sabines remained in Rome as part of the new city.

Influences in the area

Archaeological evidence tells us that Rome’s actual origins were less dramatic.

The first Romans were Latin farmers and shepherds living in small village huts on the Esquiline and Palatine hills.

The Sabines, a tribe living to the north, divided soon after the city’s founding, and some of them came south and united with Rome’s people.

Rome remained relatively primitive until the 600s B.C., when the Etruscans, who controlled a series of city-states to the north, began taking control of the city.

Kingdom of Rome

While modern scholars discount some of the accounts of ancient Roman historians, they agree that during the first phase of its history — from approximately 753 to 509 B.C. — Rome was ruled by kings.

According to these writers, Romulus was the first, succeeded by Numa Pompilius, a Sabine, and in 616 B.C., by an Etruscan named L. Tarquinius Priscus.

Kings had almost absolute power, serving as administrative, judicial, military, and religious leaders. A senate acted as an advisory council.

The king chose its members, who became known as patricians, from the city’s leading families.

Unlike later monarchs, Roman kingship was not inherited.

After a king died, there was a period known as an interregnum, when the Senate chose a new ruler, who was then elected by the people of Rome.

The king-elect needed to obtain approval of the gods and the imperium, the power to command, before assuming his throne.

Etruscan influences

The Etruscans ruled a loose confederation of city- states that stretched from Bologna to the Bay of Naples.

It remains unclear where they originated, but they used a version of the Greek alphabet and some ancient sources describe them as coming from Asia Minor.

Around 650 B.C., they were already dominant in the region and took control of Rome, wanting its strategic position on the Tiber.

Under Etruscan kings, Rome grew from a series of villages into a proper city.

The Etruscans drained the marshes around the city, constructed underground sewers, laid out roads and bridges.

They established the cattle market, Forum Boarium, as well as Forum Romanum, the central market and meeting place that evolved into the heart of the empire.

Toward the end of this period of Etruscan influence, the first temple of Jupiter was built on the Capitoline Hill.

This temple, although rebuilt many times, became the symbol of Rome’s power.

Founding the Republic

The era of Roman kings ended in 509 B.C., when the Romans supposedly expelled the last Etruscan king, L. Tarquinius Superbus, in another mythicized event.

As recounted by historians, including Livy, the son of Tarquinius Superbus, Sextus, raped at knifepoint the noblewoman Lucretia, wife of the king’s great nephew.

Lucretia, feeling that her honor and virtue had been lost, committed suicide.

Her uncle Brutus swears to avenge her and commits to revolution and the expulsion of the monarchy.

To the Roman people, her story represents the tyrannical powers of the monarch on the state, and so the saga of Lucretia is cited as the event that spurred the Roman Republic into being.

In place of the monarchy, Romans established a republic, which lasted until 30 B.C.

Over the course of nearly five centuries, Rome became a dominant Western power, seizing territory throughout the Mediterranean, creating an enormous and efficient army, and learning how to administer its vast provinces.

NOTE:

The traditional date for the founding of Rome is 21 April 753 BC.

[thehellenisticworld]

The construction of Portus began under Emperor Claudius, who built the massive mole extending from both sides to a central island with a small reconstruction of the Pharos lighthouse of Alexandria. However, the harbor of Claudius was still too exposed to the waves of the Mediterranean, making it an unstable anchorage during stormy seas. For this reason, Emperor Trajan added the hexagonal basin, which was more sheltered from the sea. Trajan's harbor can still be seen from the air and lies near Fiumicino Airport.

Portus was built because Ostia had become practically unusable due to the silting of the Tiber's mouth. Before the construction of this harbor, merchant ships had two options: either take the long and costly overland route after anchoring in the Bay of Naples, or transfer goods to smaller ships on the open sea near the Tiber’s mouth—an immensely dangerous operation. The construction of Portus finally provided the capital of the Roman Empire with a worthy local harbor once again.

Photo: Facebook (page: All Things Rome)

[incubusnero]

Tales from the Little Black Book + 1 / ?

A couple years ago For the most part the entire trip has been rather uneventful. While there were a few people in the Tiber Bay that caught my eye, the moment I spoke to them I knew it wasn't meant to be. There's so many men who see the sea and adventure from below deck but claim to be these wild pirates and everyone can see right through them. I'm not here to slum with someone scrubbing the galley.

I decided to skip the isles and bothered Nari into taking me to Caribella and I truly owe her a favor for doing so. Because I met him. An actual pirate, a local to Caribella with his sunkissed skin and his curls. He laughs like he doesn't have a care in the world and it's so different from anyone I've met around Eterna. I will have to tell Eridani that she has won our bet, she was right, I did actually find a pirate to sigh dreamily at. It's hard not to when he's animatedly talking about his travels, the ways of the sea, this captain of his. Anyways, so we first went down for a walk down by the docks after a few pints, he showed me a spot the locals loved and .... And then the inn hallway... Over a barrel of wine... The hammock situation was new to me though. On the beach, tied between two trees a sheet big enough to sprawl out in. Secluded enough to feel private because again, Robin knew a spot. It's one of the few times I've wondered how many other people he's taken here. Bit hypocritical. Anyways... We laid there together afterwards just talking about nothing, my fingers drawing patterns on his skin, connecting freckles. I was going to miss it. So things do not go as planned. I didn't think they would, I don't think I could spend an entire three months with one person. But he makes me want to and I might be a fool but I am not foolish enough to think I could ever replace a ship and the open water. And so... It just keeps happening, us running into each other, spending time. I don't even care for sailing but we make a day of it, the two of us. It's been maybe a month of this and it feels too easy. There's shades to him that are darker, I know laughter to disguise pain when I see it. Two more weeks were spent together, making it six weeks I spent making moon eyes at a singular man. A new record, probably, I'll have to go back and reread to be certain. He can keep his soul and his smile, I won't indulge further, I can't compete with the sea. I sail back to Eterna tomorrow. I told him maybe he'd see me again some day. I left him a cologne.

Robin Top notes - Rose petals, lemon Middles note - salt, lime Base note - musk, actual sea water Smells like the breeze coming off of the ocean

[dejatheeinnkeeper]

The Stumble Inn +1 / ?

Standing on the edge of Eterna is the home of every weary traveler in Lysara, they just don’t all know it yet. Built by a man born by the Tiber Bay and the best damn tavern wench Taravell had ever seen, the Stumble Inn had once been a humble hole in the wall, more of a barn even. It started expanding as those that stopped in to drink needed a place to stay and they were offered the couple’s spare room in their own home upstairs. The story has always gone that the reason the inn was so special was all the love and care of the couple seeped into its very foundations as they built their business literally from the ground up. Now after some renovations and the place changing hands to the once little girl who grew up there, it's a little more cottage-y in nature. Deja has chosen to incorporate more of the flora of the area and hasn't balked at any offer to use magic to improve the place, making it a little more mystical in nature.

[vuldak-juneau]

Who: @juliangladiator Where: Eterna, along Tiber Bay When: Several days after the Mystery Box trauma extravaganza Notes: No dialogue starter from our stubborn girl--let me know if you need me to add any to get it going, I definitely can.

Sunlight glimmered off the choppy surface of the Tiber Bay. The sound of the body of water lapping against the manmade seawall Juneau sat near was calming. Quietly, she considered how soft and organic of a sound it was, her mind forcing her to compare it with the contrasting sound of the echoing rockslides and the grating sound of dripping stalactites in the mountain cave within which she had passed a month. Even if she was brought back from the game without a scratch and no longer ragged and emaciated by hunger, what had been experienced had set into her marrow. No better or worse a setting than where she had first met Julian, Juneau appreciated the warmth of the sunlight streaming down upon her even as it colored the high points of her nose and cheeks a soft, burning pink. Juneau despised the bustle of the city, the heavily populated streets, and the snide looks of Lysaran nobility–but the natural spaces like the bay and surrounding mountains were forming themselves into something of a haven to her. 

Despite all of this, Juneau had strongly considered simply not showing up, even if she approved of the venue Julian had selected. It would have been easy, and likely inconsequential, to stand him up. She possessed the knowledge of Julian’s name, and hers was unknown to him. Compounding upon this, Juneau had not disclosed details about where she was lodged, that she was one of the Iskaran refugees, nor had she looked quite herself across the way at the Queenset Isles. When she first crossed the suspected wolf’s path, she had worn regalia for the occasion of Neptunalia which was only a step away from a disguise compared to her usual manner of dress. If the vuldak didn’t want Julian to find her, she was fairly certain he wouldn’t. But as it were, she had shown up. It wasn’t impossible that he walk right past her today, and should he, she had already resolved that she would not stop or correct him.

In Juneau’s hands was one half of a smooth, dark stone. It was sun-warmed as she sat with it, the clear-sky heat of the dog days of summer able to do so. The weight of it in her hand grounded her and kept her from leaving like a very small anchor. What she had brought with her was one of the smooth, black stones she had pocketed from Julian’s pile of skipping stones–she still wasn’t sure if he hadn’t noticed or he simply hadn’t protested. She had saved them to crack open over the last few days–they were a tool she used to help get through the night in Alder’s room at the inn, too embarrassed to admit to him that she returned to him afraid of the dark. When the darkness loomed too large, she would begin to count. Each time she managed to count to a new record high, she would award herself with one of the stones. She had been so certain that they each held a fossil, but only one did.

Juneau had hidden one-half in her rucksack with a few other prized treasures, and she had brought one-half to return to Julian. It was a nautiloid fossil, and when she had managed to chip away all the shale that had encased it, she judged it to be a finer specimen than she might ever hope to find. Juneau hadn’t been keen on sharing it, but she was curious about the blades Etienne had mentioned that had the capability of slicing agates, and when she tracked one down to avoid having to spend too much time with herself alone, she had the fossil bisected. Julian had been the one to collect the rock, and it likely would have been within his right to demand she give the whole thing back–but he hadn’t known what he had to begin with, so offering him even half felt like a gamble. 

The vuldak sensed him coming before he was especially near. Silently, she wondered if he could track her the way she could sense direwolves and certain werewolves, the way she could measure her proximity to Alder. The way her cells had not buzzed in anxious anticipation of Ivar’s approach or movement for some time now. It was an assumption that Juneau could feel Alder’s presence because they were both vuldaks–but she didn’t know if she was interpreted as a wolf by other wolves now that she had been forced into a more abyssal form. Juneau pretended not to notice it, her jaw set and her perceptive, deep green eyes set on the jagged, cerulean surface of the water. She ceded the responsibility of a greeting to Julian, equal parts happy to leave sociability to anyone else who would assume such responsibility and as a small experiment to see if the blonde boy with sea salt eyes would demonstrate any tells that might answer such a question. 

[hiddenlilja]

who?: @theportaraceli where?: near tiber bay, the city of eterna, lysara notes: thank you kindly for your patience <3

The evening was cool and dim by the time Lilja emerged. The sun long since sunk past the great Tower of Olympia, visible from almost any point in the city, along with most of the shorter, squatter buildings, as well. All the same, the dhampir drew the hood of her cloak about her head, her reddish eyes flicking nervously from one end of the alley to the other, like an animal testing the safety of an open clearing. There was a gentle breeze tugging at the hem of her cloak, fluttering the pendants and banners tacked over the entryways of shops and restaurants. It carried with it the briny scent of the bay—her unspoken destination. She had learned there was always something to be overhead amidst the bustling of merchants unloading and loading their ships, in the calls of traders up and down the docks.

What she did not anticipate was the sudden flash of a familiar face; eyes she had known from the other side of the sea, hands that had helped carry her here. She turned in the other direction, almost as if to make off before she could be seen, but her path was squarely blocked by two men carrying a long chest of silks off a merchant ship. She turned back again, and the crowd seemed to jostle her along, closer so that Lilja almost could not help the moment her eyes locked with Araceli's. "Oh," She said simply, her tone cool but her smile soft as she held the other woman's gaze. "It is you."

[elokian]

who?: @witchernjal where?: tiber bay when?: before he ships out to aventia oop. pirates don't go to war they just pillage and plunder the homes of those who go to war hehe

On any other day, ships rising from beneath the depths of Tiber Bay would’ve likely been met with a stronger response once the initial shock of his ships wrapped in his forcefields breaking through the water's surface wore off. Elokian boasted the largest vessels on the Veiled Seas which warranted an aggressive response, but the welcome his crew got wasn’t nearly aggressive enough. The attack was well timed, a result of his careful waiting and keen eye trained on Lysara. As soon as the airships deployed west, he knew the raiders of Neptune’s Fleet could have their way with the capital.

Between the individual power of his crew members and Theneras’ new toys launching volley after volley of artillery from his flagship, Neptune’s Fleet laid waste to structures lining Tiber Bay as they plundered wide and far. Their violence was indiscriminate, and with their Captain handling the response of what meager forces the Tower could muster after sending their best away, he knew they’d sail away significantly richer with all their restless energy finally expended. Elokian himself wasn’t concerned at all about stealing treasure, enjoying his takedown of Olympians and queensguard as they scrambled to respond to this surprise attack.

There he was, firing off field after field, fisting his way through armor and weave alike when suddenly as he grappled a witch to the ground he saw a pair of eyes looking at him from the shadows. “Aye, this isn’t a spectator sport. I’m not a show pony, like you,” he says before grunting a few more times as he twists the head-locked witch’s neck to the point of snapping. As he stood, he spit some blood onto the ground and pulled his gourd from his waistband, chugging the high-proof shipwine inside down. Elokian only got better in a brawl when he drank, but no level of stupor would dull his senses. Njal could hide, but Elokian was quite attuned to him due to a little crush. However, it was majorly disappointing to see him return to Lysara’s gladiator arenas after the game they enjoyed together during Neptunalia. Or at least, Elokian enjoyed himself. “Seeing you controlled for entertainment like a beast on a leash … was surprising. From one king’s bitch to another, and for mere pocket change too. Guess it’s my fault for thinking there was more to you than that, but to each their own, I suppose.”

[ormir]

&&: @vxlashbringer Where: Tiber Bay Notes: classic meet cute where i almost push you into the blood ocean

After a full day baking under the sun, the shipyard reeked of salt and the pungent rot of decaying algae. The summer bloom gathered in a red line on the horizon, and stained coppery rings around the bows of merchant ships that cut through the bay. Ormir strode the dock as the sun dipped beyond the isles. In the North, such a lushness of life would be interpreted as a good omen. Warmer seas meant stronger summers, and a likely break in the frost above the ironwood forests. Here, the bloom only meant that time was passing, and each moment with it cementing Iskaldrik and its ruler further into history. 

The refugees’ plight had become one of many the Queen juggled, and though the threat of Aetheron invasion loomed along the northern border, there were closer threats to snub that took precedence. The King’s Hand blamed this negligence for his country’s slip toward obscurity. As representative, he felt the weight of their voice thinning in his throat within the small council. If there was no movement soon, Iskaldrik’s survivors would be just another faction osmosed into Eterna’s ecosystem of displaced and lost souls. In a few short generations, their descendants would have nothing left to connect them to their homeland.

Something solid knocked him from the spiraling thought. A stray shoulder had clipped his own. Leather scuffed as Ormir stopped and turned to address the owner. Crowds typically bent for him like a brook around a stone, but this one was obstinate. Was he becoming invisible, too? “I beg your pardon.” Ormir purred, though it sounded more akin to a demand than an apology. A smile waxed, heavily manufactured, over his face, as silver eyes flicked the stranger up and down. Assessing. Inquiring. Evening his temper, despite their proximity to the edge of the dock, and the allure of the reddish brine below. “I was miles away.” He reasoned.

[thesaintelectric]

if bethesda weren't cowards they'd set the next tes game in the middle dawn and get wierd with it. if they were cool they'd set one during/just before tiber septim conquering tamriel.

sadly they are neither but a game set around the illiac bay, probably built around the crumbling empire and hammerfell being 1/2 occupied by the thalmor should be neat.

[lamuradex]

Find the Word Tag

Thanks for the tag @sableglass. A nice selection you've chosen for me.

I was given the words Embrace, Pressure, Worn, and Remember. For this I've had to grab from two separate stories. The first two are from Signs of Light and Shadow and the second two are from The Madman and the Princess.

And for the people I'll be tagging, your words are: Wake, Home, Hurt and End. (I just rolled a random word generator until I found some that didn't feel too specific).

Anyway, enjoy!

Signs of Light and Shadow first.

EMBRACE

“Elena!�� she shouted, breaking away from Pyra and sprinting towards her sister. Elena ran too and they collided into a hug, wrapping their arms around one another. Elena smiled broadly amidst the embrace as Cerris sobbed into her shoulder. Tears of joy bubbled from her eyes, but she didn’t care. The pain she’d been carrying for two months slipped from her shoulders. She almost laughed as relief washed through her like sunlight. Neither was sure how long they held on, but Cerris finally found more words. “I thought you were dead.”

PRESSURE

Cerris’s mind stopped. The wave within her froze. It shimmered, reflecting the night before and the insulting young man in the tavern. The pathetic young man who couldn’t take no for an answer. The man who now stood smiling. Within her, the cold pressure of the wave halted. Then it exploded. Her skin boiled, her teeth ground like mill stones, as her entire body ignited and was swallowed in burning rage. Cerris’s hand shot sideways, pulled the sword from Bardor’s scabbard, and she sprang at Tiber, pulling the blade towards him.

And now for The Madman and the Princess

WORN

“Are you and Gideon married?” Fey looked round, having resumed the stock take. “No, darling. I think the men around here would notice a ring on my finger. And at the end of the day it’s just a bit of paper and some government benefits.” “So you didn’t give Gideon that silver ring he wears?” Fey stopped working. “No, dear. He’s worn that since before even I knew him. Says an old friend gave it to him.” “Hmmm…” Maddy considered. “Do you wear rings the men at the bar give you?” “Oh, heavens no. I sell them. It’s not the bulk of my income, but it’s a nice bonus.”

REMEMBER

“I wanted to discuss a recent incident. But first, where were you two nights about, Mr Tailor?” Gideon furrowed his brow. “I’m struggling to remember. Tell me what you’re looking into, maybe it’ll jog my memory.” “If you insist, Mr Tailor,” Holida sighed. “Two nights ago, a ship was blown up and sunk in the bay. You, Mr Tailor, were caught on a security camera less than a block away from the docks. Gunshots were heard around there that night. So, what were you doing there?” Oh no, Gideon’s brain murmured. “Well, Officer, I was out for a late night walk,” he made up quickly. “I like to go down by the waterfront. The fresh air does me good.”

And there we go. Now for the tags.

@wintherlywords @stephtuckerauthor @fayeiswriting @mikathewriter @agirlandherquill

Again, sorry if you've been tagged before.